End And Begin
by O'Donnell
Summary: Mary dies. We know that. But what happens next? Written before S4 and rediscovered, here is an alternative brief end scene, and in script form. Indicating that the possibilities are endless...


End And Begin

Tidying up my file of short and incomplete writings, I came across this fragment. Just a single scene that popped into my head shortly after the end of S3 was originally broadcast.

Rereading it, I thought it still had power and it's own impact, regardless of what actually appeared on screen later. And it does have the merit of bringing a sadly missed character back into the mix.

Series 4 Episode 3 Final scene

_C__ity. Night.__The camera swoops down to a large municipal building that becomes identified as a hospital as we get closer._

_The camera is now inside, swooping along a corridor with one side of it external windows. Muted night lights made everywhere dark and empty of people. A light in the distance comes closer and is seen to be the light from a corridor at right angles to our corridor, light seen leaking through the windows of double doors._

_A figure can now be seen pacing backwards and forwards across the doors, occasionally pausing to peer through the glass doors down the lit corridor he does not enter._

_It is Sherlock. Distraught and dishevelled._

CHANGE PoV.

_In the lit corridor John Watson is striding towards the double doors. He is doing his best blank military walk and stance, face impassive._

_Back to…._

DARK CORRIDOR PoV

_Sherlock sees Watson coming. Steps back from the doorway with an expression of mixed hope and trepidation._

SHERLOCK

John! What….?

WATSON

Don't.

_Half raises his hand. A __beat as Sherlock starts to speak_

Just. Shut up.

SHERLOCK

Tell me!

_A beat. _

The baby? John.

_Watson just looks at him._

SHERLOCK

I am so sorry, John. And - Mary?

WATSON

Are you trying to be funny?

_Beat as Watson looks up at his friend _

No Sherlock, I've lost them both. They couldn't save the baby. They couldn't save Mary either.

_Sherlock looks at Watson with something like pity. Opens his mouth to speak, closes it. Sympathy or truth? You see the thoughts chase across his face, decide what to say. And being Sherlock, he chooses the wrong thing to say, as usual . _

SHERLOCK

Mary knew the odds, John. The law of averages of survival for assass…..

_Watson loses his iron control and grabs Sherlock by the shirt._

WATSON

I have told you before, Sherlock. Shut up.

_Watson goes to walk away, but Sherlock, in what is, for him, a rare gesture of human contact, touches Watson's arm. There is a second when their eyes meet, then Watson snarls, brings up a surprise punch from very low._

_Sherlock sees it coming, goes to counter, then changes his mind and opens his hands to take it. The smash to his jaw is harder than he expects, rocks him back into the wall and his mouth bleeds._

WATSON

This is your fault. This is all because of you.

SHERLOCK

Yes. I…..

WATSON

No, Sherlock. Not another word. Not ever.

_Watson gathers himself and is about to turn away, then changes his mind._

WATSON

Your fault. Always your fault. Always having to win. Always having to be right. Be the Lone bloody Ranger. Well, this is winning, Sherlock. This is what winning looks like.

_He flies at Sherlock. Raining blows from all directions, beating Sherlock to a pulp. Sherlock, looking sick and disorientated to his very soul, lets him and makes no defence. _

_As Watson strikes he shouts, punctuating the blows_

WATSON

This good enough for you? Winning like this?. Being right? But then, it's not you paying the price, now is it?

_He pummels Sherlock until Sherlock is bloody and on the ground. Watson draws back his foot for a kick. Changes his mind._

WATSON

That's enough. I'm done here.

_Throws a look down at Sherlock, who looks back without speaking, a world in his eyes._

SHERLOCK

I'm sorry, John.

WATSON

Did you not hear me? Not another word. Oh - fuck it!

_He smiles. And we think John has purged his pain and the usual genial and caring John Watson will come back to himself. But….he then kicks Sherlock viciously in the stomach. Sherlock rolls to one side, groaning and retching, taken as much by surprise as we, the viewers, are._

WATSON

All your fault. How do I live with this?

_Long, long beat_

SHERLOCK

What can I do? Tell me -

WATSON

Never come into my sight. Never speak to me again. Or I swear, Sherlock. I. Will. Kill. You.

_Sherlock trying to get to his feet, but Watson gives a final hard kick to the stomach that makes Sherlock arch up onto all fours and gag_

NEW PoV

_Mycroft Holmes is walking down the corridor from the opposite direction. Not hurrying exactly, but faster than his normal stately progress, a frown between his eyes._

_He cannot yet see what is happening the other side of more double doors on the long dark external corridor where Sherlock and Watson are._

BACK TO CORRIDOR PoV

_Watson looks down at his best friend without pity._

_He gathers himself together and slowly fits back into his precise contained military persona. He nods to himself in dismissal, looks dispassionately down at Sherlock, sniffs, and looks away._

NEW PoV

_From low on the ground, under Sherlock's body, Sherlock on all fours, Watson can be seen striding away along the corridor._

_As Mycroft comes through the doors and sees Sherlock bloody on the floor. _

_He hurries towards him. Casts a worried look at Watson as he passes going in the opposite direction, but Watson is focused so fiercely internally he does not speak, probably does not even see him._

_Mycroft rushes to Sherlock, crouches and puts a hand onto his brother's shoulder. Sherlock is dripping snot, sweat and blood onto the shiny floor. He says nothing._

_Watson strides away and does not look back._

NEW PoV

_The camera following Watson's progress suddenly arches upwards and flies away, back, back, back to a position on the office building opposite. The camera keeps backing, and we realise it is inside a dark and empty office, Watson still in view several stories down._

_The silhouette of a man can now be seen leaning against the window, balanced between two hands on the glass, peering avidly down with great concentration._

_A voice speaks into the dark void._

VOICE

Well, well, well. Your pet has turned on you at last, my dear. And he has teeth we never expected, doesn't he? What fun.

Now then, Sherlock - how does that feel? Being on your own? No-one at your back? A teeny bit scary?

Time to come out and play, my dear. Time to see if the great game can grab you like it did before. But this time, this time - you - will - lose.

_He laughs. The camera spins, pushes in tight. It is Moriarty _

END


End file.
